The forecasted prediction of rain was unfortunately, correct this morning, as we caught, just the tip of, storm Hector or whatever it has been named that battered the North of the UK. We did not get the 70 mph gales but I still estimated a gentle 25 to 30 mph as we were set down from our coach at Devil's Dyke National Trust car park. Although I thought we all knew the threat of nasty weather, some still appear to be dressed from another planet, preferring style over practicality with trendy 3/4 cut jeans, walking sandals or lightweight trainers and even plastic ponchos hastily thrown over shorts & T-shirts, the plastic disintegrating with the first few puffs of Hector. Not us though! It was on with my new over trousers purchased especially to pull over my size 10 boots, then simply zip the legs up! All these years I have struggled with those narrow legs with just a slight flare...........I won't go on again.....so now snug in anti-wet gear, off we go and just ahead of a late running coach from far flung places, perhaps, Arundel or Chichester, so seems only a just a few of us on the SDW when you take into account the fair-weather walkers and the 'something's cropped up' drop-outs (bit harsh!) Luckily for us we had previously seen the iconic Devil's Dyke on many occasions, also the splendid wooded cap on Newtimber Hill the unique Jack and Jill, a pair of black & white windmills, the stunning elevated views from the lofty Ditching Beacon and the sea sparkling in the sunshine all along the way to the right and eventually to the familiar Mr Whippy there to cool us down with a 99 flake...........all experienced on previous walks. However, 
this time we were to see nothing in the blustery wind, driving rain and low clouds or was it rising fog? For almost 3 hours we would only just make out ghostly figures of sparsely spaced fellow walkers in front and behind giving us a visual clue to where the path may run, providing of course, they know where they are going!
Back to the walk and an hour into the day, faster walkers catch up and go past with their heads down to presumably just get to the end and get this miserable day done. After crossing the bridge over the near-motorway section of the A23, we entered into Pyecombe village and we are shepherded via stripy tape into the lovely church where the 'ladies' had prepared warming tea and cakes for all ( that paused). On a good day we would be back sitting outside in the churchyard admiring the ancient headstones, the beautifully restored church spire and the unusual central opening lynch gate especially designed to make coffins pass through without too much lifting or dropping. But not today.....what seemed like hundreds were in a snaking queue starting outside the door and splitting into 3 sections inside, cake queue, just tea queue and of course, wee wee queue. Being not able to second guess which one moved slower but I had a good idea, Lesley joined the tea queue and I joined the cake queue, and the home-made cakes were excellent as we all sat wet, warm & steaming in the pews. I found a nice single pew that was obviously where the vicar or one of the sermon givers, did his or her stuff, but as we all made donations I am sure they wouldn't have disproved. Lesley and I both gave up with the toilet queue which turned out to be the slowest by far and after donning our gear again we found an alternative al-fresco plot just around the corner. Onwards and upwards now passing, quite unbelievably, golfers that seemed oblivious of the conditions, how they could see where their balls landed or even where the greens were, one cannot even guess!
We both had no inclination to stop and watch their putting prowess as we must press on, albeit at a slowish pace, in the almost white-out of fog, huddled in hooded wet coats that gave no side visibility, only visibility straight ahead, but there is nothing to see so we didn't really miss anything! The good news is the weather is coming from the west and we are proceeding only in an easterly direction, thus the rain is beating on our backs unlike the DOE group that pass us by, looking wet and ever-so-slightly cheesed off. 
As per the forecast though, as sudden as the inclement weather started it dies down and stops on cue for our one o'clock lunch break. We sit on a bank on our well loved foam fold-up pads and are joined by two ladies one had lost her friends, probably in the murky mist and the other politely asked if she may join us? No rain at all now and restocked with food and drink we carry on to Black Cap where we turn right, 
now in the broken sunshine and walk on almost on our own now, suspecting what we would find at the end, was what had happened to almost all the others. We stumble across a couple of galvanised and lid-covered drinking troughs to sit and rest awhile, finishing off the remnants of our lunch before descending in the now warm and drying out sunshine until one steep ascent through the woods gets us puffing and back down again to cross the footbridge over the busy A27. It's here we feel almost at the end of the day but it's at least 20 minutes more walking along and beside the route of the old road and on to another hill then a double back to watch the waves of wheat 
across the fields dancing in the warm sunshine before reaching an awaiting very small crowd of red-shirts and a few drinkers at the Newmarket Inn where the glorious sunshine was full out again with just a memory of passing clouds in the distance.........the rest had speedily finished their walk and had already gone, our suspicions were correct, they must have only seen rain and fog today but we ended in wall to wall blue sky! Oh we love England!